


SAKURA

by user86 (hentaetae)



Series: The Ninth Hokage [3]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hentaetae/pseuds/user86
Summary: How did Sakura and Sasuke reconcile?
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto, Katou Dan/Tsunade, Kawaki/Uchiha Sarada, Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Uchiha Fugaku/Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Sarada/Uzumaki Boruto
Series: The Ninth Hokage [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175789
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue: Sandstone

**Author's Note:**

> *Menou is the lizard from Sasuke Retsuden (have also seen the name translated as Agate??)

There was sand in her mouth, ears, nose and eyes. Sakura coughed weakly, trying to clear her throat.

Sunlight beat down on her bloody form. With a grimace, she sat up. A sea of endless golden powder surrounded her. Her hands were caked in grime. She was relieved to feel her shuriken holster still strapped to her thigh.

Her head throbbed with a vengeance when she managed to get to her feet. None of her wounds were life-threatening, but she dedicated a stream of chakra from her Byakugou reserves to combating the exhaustion in her limbs.

Sasuke’s cloak lay a couple of meters away, but her husband was nowhere to be seen. Without the aid of surfaces to help maintain its shape, she had to concentrate hard to compress her chakra into a web of razor-thin probes. Not for the first time, she wished she could use senjutsu. Something about the eerie rustling of the sand made her hair stand on end.

This particular sensing technique had been inspired by her fight with Sasori and refined with Kankuro over the course of many years. It had been a gamechanger for reconnaissance and infiltration missions and the memory of dozens of ANBU lined up at her door for instruction still made her blush.

The delicate threads trembled under the force of a sudden wind gust and Sakura was showered with thousands of tiny, hot grains. She wondered why Sasuke had transported them here; she had never been to this dimension before. As the minutes ticked by, she nervously spun the ring on her finger, the only piece of jewelry she wore asides from the silver healing bracelets gifted to her by Tsunade.

The red stone set into the ring was warm to the touch, as if a great power stirred within it. It had been fashioned with Sasuke’s chakra and had never failed to lead her back to him, no matter where he was in the world. She had insisted on creating one for him as well, which currently hung on a chain around his neck. He was always sure to keep it hidden beneath his shirt, claiming some weapons were best kept secret, but she knew better: he was just shy.

Finally she felt a faint pulse from the east. Her feet sank into the shifting ground unpredictably as she scrambled towards it. Beyond the crest of a dune, she found him lying facedown, trails of dried blood marring his fine features. Gently, she turned him on his side, and, confirming that his heartbeat was steady, thumped him on the back with chakra-enhanced strength. Unresisting, he fell back to the ground with a moan.

Another tremendous wind gust knocked Sakura back against him. She looked up and paled. Huge clouds of dust swirled on the horizon, liquefying the sand in their path with a rumble that lifted particles into the air. The reddening sky sent chills down her spine. “Wake up!” she hissed. When he remained motionless, she cursed and heaved him upright, his head lolling against her shoulder. With less finesse than she was known for, she pressed a palm to his lower back and shoved her chakra into his system.

Immediately, he gasped and began coughing violently. Wasting no time, she dragged him back towards the sand bank, hoping to use its shade as shelter from the impending storm. A high pitch gale had picked up, whipping sand into their eyes. Twice, the ground gave way and they were sucked in to their hips. Sakura used her chakra-enhanced fists and feet to clear a path, but it always disappeared after a few steps.

“Sakura,” Sasuke’s voice was rough, “we won’t make it.” His Sharingan eye continued to bleed, matting his hair, and his breath was laboured. She knew a Susanoo was out of the question.

“We have to.” She gritted her teeth, continuing forward. They had just reached the summit when a burst of wind brought them to their knees, sheets of sand raining down upon them. The twin vines of her seal spread across her body, filling her with renewed vigour. She grasped Sasuke’s shoulders, giving him access to her strength. It wouldn’t be enough for him to open another portal, battered as he was, but it would be enough for her crazy idea not to kill him. The storm would reach them in a couple of seconds.

Husband and wife clung to each other, tangling their limbs in unspoken agreement to reduce the surface area. Sakura managed one deep intake of air before they were pulled under. Then, with chakra control only someone of her caliber could achieve, she willed a single grain thick perimeter of sand to stone, entombing herself and Sasuke.

Red and black spots danced in her vision and she could barely make out Sasuke’s mouth moving. The amount of effort it took was extraordinary, draining nearly her entire reserve. She thought of Sarada and her resolve strengthened; they couldn’t die here. “Shannarou!” she grunted, eyes locked with her husband’s; the fear in his amplified hers. Just before she was certain she would have to leech Sasuke’s chakra—an extremely painful procedure given their current position—so they would both survive, the screeching solidification of the sand reached its end. The subsequent silence was deafening.

Once her dizziness subsided, Sakura swallowed, trying to wet her suddenly parched throat. All of her limbs were trembling; it had been quite a long time since she’d used such a demanding jutsu. “Where are we?” she asked hoarsely.

Sasuke had shut his right eye in an effort to stop the blood, but it did nothing to diminish his furious expression. “Sakura,” he ground out, “never do that again.” He tightened his legs around her as if in reckoning.

She sighed, eyes drifting over their crypt tiredly. Her heartbeat was still loud in her ringing ears. “We lived, didn’t we?”

He stared at her for a while, panting harshly, and she knew what he was remembering: Menou’s roars, concrete collapsing on top of her, her chakra so dim she couldn’t answer his pleas. The entire trip back to the village, she’d slept in the vice of his arms. “This is where you and Obito found me,” he finally answered.

She almost laughed. Of course, how could she forget? Probably because her memory of the occasion involved very little sand and lots of heart-palpitating eye sex. Maybe her flak jacket was still here somewhere. Instinctively, she glanced at the pale pink burn scar on her forearm. It never did heal. Then she tipped her head back, looking at the mountain of sand that sat on top of them, separated only by an impossibly thin shield, and shuddered. “We have to get back,” she murmured, trying to think of a way out of their predicament.

Leaning back against the stone, Sasuke closed his eyes. “Sarada…” he began.

“No,” she cut him off, “Don’t even say it.” Exhaling shakily, she gently took his calloused hand in hers. “Our daughter is strong.”

He squeezed her fingers, fiercely, unforgivingly. She felt exhaustion seeping over him, and wished she’d grabbed his cloak so they’d have a blanket now. Desert nights were not known for heat. Unprompted, he lifted his arm, and she nestled into his side. Every time her mind dared to wander into the petrifying territory of what-ifs, she clutched at the memory of their daughter’s smiling face, her parents’ thunderous guffaws, Naruto’s ridiculous Sexy Jutsu, the affection in Ino’s voice when she called her Billboard Brow. As if the sheer force with which she was remembering her loved ones could protect them from harm.

Sakura awoke sometime later shivering. The temperature had dropped considerably as midnight came and went. It took her a second to realize that the odd pressure on her skull was actually Sasuke’s cheek. His neck was bent nearly ninety degrees to rest on her head. The darkness was so intense she felt it was trickling into her sockets the longer she kept her eyes open. She turned her head further into Sasuke’s neck; he smelled of sweat and smoke, and he was still warm.


	2. The End of a Beginning

The rage bubbling within her had taken a backseat to her medical instincts when she’d noticed the stumps of their arms. On one hand, she wanted to punch them both so hard that they’d pass out, on the other, she wanted to cry and hug them and never let go. So she settled for silently tending to their wounds. She could feel Sasuke’s dark eyes following her every move.

“Sakura, don’t mind me…” he began.

“Don’t. I need to concentrate,” she told him. Her hands shook to the beat of her heart as she held them over his abdomen. His chakra signature was steady, though she could tell his levels were dangerously low. Trails of blood had dried on his chest and the variety of lacerations and bruises were enough to divert her attention momentarily. Despite her mental turmoil, her chakra control was as flawless as ever. She spared Naruto a glance: his smile was bittersweet though his eyes were unreadable as he watched his teammates.

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?” She thought she heard him wrong, “For what?”

“For everything I’ve done…” His voice was tired, raspy from lack of water and the shouting match she was sure they’d engaged in.

“You’d better be, dammit,” she hiccupped. Inner Sakura stirred for the first time in years. _You must still be in shock_ _or something,_ her angry voice said, _he tried to kill you, Shanaroo, and destroy Konoha!_

Sasuke stared at her, and she sensed his hesitance, as if she was someone unfamiliar he didn’t know how to approach. And Sakura supposed she was. They were, in many ways, more strangers to each other now that they had been before they met. Between her green, glowing chakra and the blood where his left arm once was, there were years of hurt and betrayal. But also, she reminded herself, there was joy and laughter. The reality of the coexistence of these dichotomies was brilliantly showcased in the young man lying in front of her. When she met his eyes for a brief second, hers filled with tears.

They slid down her cheeks between incoherent gasps, “You are so much trouble…Stupid…”

Kakashi watched his students from afar, feeling so much younger all of a sudden. And for a moment, everything was as it always was, as it was always meant to be.

*******

Naruto always thought love would look different. They say some moments are too private to interrupt, and so, quite contrary to character, Naruto turned his gaze to the colours of the fading day while Sakura tended to Sasuke. The reds and oranges melted into the pinks and violets naturally, like they were simply shades of the same colour, and it comforted him that the next time the sun rose, Sasuke would still be here; he’d fulfilled his promise to Sakura.

Okay, that was long enough. Shaking off his weirdly pensive mood, he sat up. A slight tingling sensation was all that was left of his wound. ”Thanks, Sakura-chan,” he said, interrupting her tears and the painfully ashamed expression Sasuke was wearing, “You patched it up real good!”

She wiped her eyes with a small smile, “You’re pretty happy for a guy who just lost his arm.”

Naruto grinned, “Not as happy as you must’ve been during that Reverse Harem Jutsu I used on Kaguya!”

A subtle twitch of Sakura’s eye was the only indication he got before she pummelled him, being careful not to punch him where he was already injured. He laughed, feeling lighter than he had in years as he cheered her up. He watched Sasuke sit up slowly from the corner of his eye, lone arm hugging his knee, one side of his mouth upturned uncertainly like he hadn’t done it in a while. And as the sun warmed them with its final dying rays, Naruto started at the naked question in his friend’s eyes. But where it would once have gone to his head and incited endless teasing at Sasuke’s expense, today it made him sad. _Teme,_ he thought not for the first time, _I wonder if you know how lonely you are_.

*******

She led Sasuke back from the Valley of the End, following close behind Kakashi and Naruto. His good arm draped across her shoulders, Sakura was visibly leaning as far away from him as possible while still supporting him. The position reminded her too much of the countless times he’d leaned on her before. She’d already made the mistake of getting too close and inhaling his heady scent of sweat, blood, and, underneath it all, something uniquely Sasuke, which had thrust her back into their genin days with such force that she’d recoiled from him instantly.

As they neared the emergency medical tents, surprised shouts sounded at the sight of Naruto, who was immediately surrounded by shinobi from all the Great Nations congratulating and thanking him. He smiled and laughed good-naturedly. Kakashi’s eyes crinkled as he ruffled his hair.

It was impossible, then, to not notice the contrast when their eyes fell on Sasuke. An uncomfortable silence descended upon the crowd, and the air became heavy with resentment and judgement. Sakura felt as though she’d tied herself to a burning stake. “Out of the way,” she found herself saying, “The heroes of the Fourth Shinobi War are coming through.” 

A couple of people gaped at her words, but Sakura brushed past them, sweeping aside the entrance to a med tent. Upon glimpsing the infamous medic and the infamous traitor, the nurses inside vacated it hurriedly.

“Sit and take off your shirt,” she instructed, busying herself with tying her hair back and pulling on some gloves. _Wait—why did I say that why did I say that why did I say that..._

Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed in deeply before turning to face her (now half naked) patient.

Sasuke’s impenetrable gaze met her own. Trying her best to remember that he was just like any other patient, she forced her eyes to stay above his neck.

Unfortunately, the wounds and dirt on his chest were not enough to mask his lean muscles, which flexed when he adjusted his sitting position under the weight of what Sakura could only presume was the stupefied expression on her face. His sweaty hair framed his face, and some of the normal pallor of his skin had returned. Naruto’s loud exclamations leaked in through the tent opening, but without his physical presence to provide a buffer, Sakura’s nervousness was driving her up the wall.

She must’ve stared a tad too long because he raised a slim brow. Sakura cleared her throat and walked up to the examination table determinedly. “I’m just going to take your vitals and then check for any internal damage,” she explained, placing two gloved fingers at the pulse point on his throat and keeping her eyes on her watch. His heart was beating a little faster than normal, which she attributed to the aftereffects of the gruelling fight to the death he’d just participated in. She placed a hand by his thigh to steady herself for taking his blood pressure with a technique only elite medical ninja, with their fine chakra control, were able to use, ignoring the heat radiating from his body. _Isn’t he usually cold?_

Closing her eyes, she coaxed chakra to a fingertip, hovering it just above a slightly bulging vein in the nook of his arm. The trick, she’d found, was to slowly pinch the chakra around the vein and listen closely for the valves opening and closing. The difficult part was applying even, and, slow but evenly increasing, pressure on both sides; too much, and she risked bursting the vessel, too little, and she would never hear the valves. The first time she’d performed this procedure, she’d increased pressure too fast and Shizune, who she’d been practicing on, had yelped and shoved Sakura away so hard she’d fallen straight on her ass. Chuckling drily at the memory, Sakura removed her hand to grab her clipboard and jot his numbers down. “Everything’s normal,” she assured him. When he simply continued to watch her, she made quick work of taking some blood samples and checking his reflexes.

While she was knocking on his knee with chakra laced knuckles, Sasuke let out a sound that Sakura could’ve sworn was a giggle. She looked up at him in surprise; one of his eyes twitched, pink staining his cheeks. “It…tickles…” he ground out. And Sakura couldn’t help it: she laughed. The great Sasuke Uchiha, giggling; it was too much.

With some effort, she reassembled her professional expression. “Lie down. I’m going to fix the bruises now.” He pulled his legs up onto the table and then he was prone before her and Sakura shamelessly observed that she could kill him right now without resistance. He was in a vulnerable position and she knew she wouldn’t hesitate like she had before. But when she took in the sight, all she could see was the beautiful curve of his neck, the soothing rise and fall of his chest, his gleaming eyes trained on her without hatred or anger or annoyance…

She forced herself to look away. Her healing chakra made quick work of the cuts and bruises, and when she was done, his skin was as clear and unmarred as she remembered it. “Done,” she said hoarsely.

Sasuke sat up and she knew he was inspecting her handiwork. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. Uncomfortable, she took her gloves off with more force than usual, almost shredding them in her haste. “Now for your eyes,” she informed him.

For a second, she noticed his features tense, but he let her approach nonetheless. She gulped as she placed her hands on his temples. They were so close she could see each individual eyelash on his eyes. Closing her own, she examined his ocular nerves, particularly the one feeding his Rinnegan eye. She found some evidence of strain and tension, but none of the damage she expected from first-time usage of such a powerful doujutsu. Interestingly, the chakra concentration matched the shape of the telltale rings. This was the first time Sakura had had the chance to study Sasuke’s eyes; though she’d all but memorized Tsunade’s analysis of his Sharingan after she had healed his mind from Itachi’s Tsukiyomi torture so long ago, the intricate pathways before her now in no way resembled the humbly simplistic ones of his youth.

For one, she noted an extra pathway linking his Sharingan eye to his Rinnegan one, and hypothesized that this was perhaps what enabled him to manifest his tomoe on top of the spirals. Before she could get too carried away, though, she thrust her attention to his other eye, repeating her investigation. _These aren’t even Sasuke-kun’s eyes_ , she remembered suddenly, and somehow it felt like sacrilege to examine the eyes of a dead man.

“Activate your Sharingan, please,” she whispered. Mesmerized yet terrified, she watched the warm brown give way to a familiar three tomoe, which spun lazily into the six-pointed star of his Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. She traced the chakra trajectory beneath her fingertips, feeling it pulsate behind his eyes. She had to marvel at the power of those eyes; Sasuke’s chakra was quite dense, and coaxing her own into it was a bit like trying to mix oil and water, though she managed it effortlessly nevertheless.

Finally finished, she moved away. The shaking in her knees was getting harder to ignore now, so she sat on the bed across from him, breathing deeply to re-center herself.

“Sakura?” _His voice is deeper._

She looked at a point just past his head as she replied, “I’m fine. You can go now, you’re perfectly healthy.”

He furrowed his brow and pulled on his shirt unsurely. She realized he had nowhere to go. In fact, letting him walk out on his own was probably a death sentence. She was just so used to him itching to leave (her and everyone else), plus she was starting to lose her mind from this prolonged interaction—something she would’ve killed for as a young girl.

“Er, I’ll come with you. You have to report to the Hokage’s tent.” She plastered on a smile and lifted the tent opening. He gave her a grateful nod before stepping through. Kakashi, Naruto and the other shinobi were nowhere in sight.

Tsunade had given her strict orders to bring him to her as soon as he was deemed fit, physically and mentally, and had made no attempt to hide the severity of his sentence from her apprentice. “He will be presented immediately before Konoha’s High Council,” she warned Sakura, “and from there probably straight to Torture and Interrogation. Can I trust you to bring him here, Sakura Haruno, kunoichi of Konoha?”

Sakura hadn’t withered beneath her mentor’s intimidating gaze, but inside, she was shaking. The sound of Sasuke’s screams—after Orochimaru cursed him, after Itachi’s Tsukiyomi torture, and every time he was hurt—haunted her. Undoubtedly, he would receive horrible treatment for his horrible crimes. Sakura loved him, but she could not—would not—protect him from this punishment. So she had bowed, assured the Sannin she could be trusted, and left.

They walked in silence, arms width distance between them. The encampment was eerily silent. Sakura felt shivers course through her body at the memory of the Creation Rebirth marks ribboning down her skin. Indestructibility at the cost of longevity. She was reminded suddenly of Lee, then Gai-Sensei. To play with the body’s limits was to suffer its consequences. Consequences which could be physical, and, she reminded herself with a sideways glance at her companion, mental. Both the Sharingan and Rinnegan required immense mental aptitude, while the jutsu they allowed the user to perform required even more physical stamina. Both tolls wouldn’t manifest for a long time, and Sakura couldn’t imagine Sasuke’s handsome face wrinkled, nor her own for that matter, but she knew it would happen.

The Hokage’s tent was decorated with the Konoha emblem, and jonin guards stood outside the entrance. They eyed Sasuke angrily, but they didn’t question Sakura about a reason for her visit, and silently pulled aside a flap to let them in.

Tsunade looked up from her makeshift desk at the intrusion. Shizune and Tonton were, as always, by her side. “Sakura,” she welcomed her disciple.

Sakura bowed deeply. “I completed the medical examination,” she informed her mentor.

Sharp hazel eyes assessed Sasuke from head to toe. “Very well,” Tsunade looked at Sakura, “You may go.”

Sakura shifted, distressed. Technically, she was entitled to stay, in case there were any questions about physical or mental fitness, but she knew the real reason Tsunade wanted her to leave was so she couldn’t protest the verdict. “I believe,” she cleared her throat, “that as Sasuke-kun’s doctor, I may have some valuable input.”

Tsunade’s tilted her head, amused. “Fine,” she allowed, “the rest of you are dismissed.” She waved a hand at the elite guards, who gave her a puzzled look but left nonetheless.

Sasuke didn’t seem perturbed that he was alone with Sakura and two women who hated him and were about to decide his fate. He gave them a stare that managed to convey boredom and awareness at the same time. Tonton oinked anxiously.

Sauntering around the desk, Tsunade walked up to him slowly. With her hands clasped behind her back and each click of her heels punctuated by the silence, she exuded an air of authority. Sweat slid down Sakura’s spine and when she meet Shizune’s frightened gaze, she realized she didn’t know what was going to happen either.

Though her shishou was not one for dramatics, at least not in relation to judicial verdicts, Sakura’s skin felt charged, the tension in the room providing an endorphin rush akin to the thrill of unlocking her Strength of a Hundred Seal. When Tsunade finally spoke, her voice had a booming quality that reminded Sakura of the announcers at the Chunin Exams.

“Sasuke Uchiha,” she said, “the Council of Elders will convene tomorrow to discuss your case. Despite the fact that Sakura has deemed you mentally and physically fit, I will allow you to ask for representation.”

Sakura perked up immediately, “And what about access to archives and files?” Sasuke shot her a murderous look. _No, he looked different when he wanted to do murder you_ , Inner Sakura corrected her, cackling with dark humour. “So he can build his case,” she added meekly.

“I don’t need representation,” he growled at Tsunade.

She smirked, “Understand that, right now, undoing the Infinite Tsukiyomi is the only thing keeping you alive, so I’d say you need all the help you can get.” She gestured to a stack of boxes behind her, balanced precariously on top of unfinished wine bottles. “Those are all the files I brought with me. The rest are in the Village. Until we leave base camp, this is all you have to work with.”

Sasuke stepped towards the boxes, and, without thinking, Sakura followed. Her hands touched the moldy cardboard before his, brain working a mile a minute. Tsunade had told her these contained “useless, boring stuff”—her words—but these were what could save Sasuke-kun.

She could feel the heat of his body behind her. “Sakura, I want you to leave,” he said, not quiet enough to save her pride, but not loud enough to escape the thin tent flaps.

Her face grew hot. She was getting real tired of his mask-on, mask-off routine. She had her own masks besides. “Fine,” she whispered, shoving roughly past him to the exit, “you’re on your own, just the way you like it.”

*******

Sakura didn’t see much of Sasuke for the next few days. She had no idea where he was holed up, but there were patients to heal and controlled demolition to perform to reshape parts of the land. Though many were upset, Tsunade ordered burials to be conducted on the base; there were simply too many bodies to carry back to Konoha. She wouldn’t forget Ino’s face as they lowered her father into the ground for as long as she lived.

Teams of medic nin were sent out to various sites almost every day to recover bodies and tend to injuries. Sakura had just returned from one such mission to the northeast of the encampment. Thankfully it had been less hard hit than others, so her time there was mostly spent guiding less experienced medics through operations and trying her hand at landscaping. Wiping sweat from her brow, she ducked inside the tent she’d been calling home for a couple weeks now. It was not a pretty sight.

Unmade bed (if you could call that a bed), dirty clothes on the floor, indecipherable patient charts scattered across the makeshift desk (extremely unprofessionally, she winced); not unlike her room at home then. She sighed; packing up camp was a task in itself. It still seemed surreal to her that just a couple days ago, the whole world had been bound in an eternal dream state while a giant tree sucked away their chakra. From what Ino and Hinata had told her, their dreams were so real they’d woken up crying.

Pushing aside her pillow and covers, she flopped down on the hard bunk. Her muscles ached from overuse and her Byakugou would take weeks to get back to full capacity. As she stretched her arms, she frowned at the faint pinkish remains of the acid burn she’d received when she and Obito had gone dimension hopping to find Sasuke. Initially, she hadn’t thought it to be anything serious, but after her routine healing procedures had done nothing, she’d finally gone to Shizune, who was an expert in burns.

“Well,” Shizune had said, “I’ve never seen acid like that before.” She’d taken a shallow skin biopsy, but the results were inconclusive. “My best guess is that because the chemicals are from another dimension, your body doesn’t know how to approach it, so your jutsus won’t do anything.”

Sakura wasn’t exactly concerned, but she was definitely not thrilled; what if it manifested into something else later down the line?

“Don’t worry,” Shizune had soothed, “I’m sure your body will come up with a way to combat it. Just give it time.” She’d kept the results of the biopsy in case they ever wanted to develop a preliminary burn ointment. The R&D Department at Konoha Hospital might be able to use it, except they couldn’t properly test it without having some of the acid first. And now that Obito was dead, there was no way to access that dimension.

Sakura checked her watch; she still had a couple hours before her night rounds. Might as well get a nap in. Just as she closed her eyes, the tent flap burst open.

She recognized him by his chakra signature, or lack thereof, rather. Lee’s eyes were wide and worried. “Sakura-san,” he panted, “You must come immediately, it’s Sasuke-kun!”

Ice flowed through her veins. “What is it? Where is he? Is he hurt?” She scrambled to her feet, grabbing first aid supplies as Lee answered.

“No, but he is bleeding badly. Some shinobi were bothering him.”

 _Shit_. She thought Tsunade would’ve given him round-the-clock guards. Guess it was a hard sell.

She sprinted awkwardly behind Lee, her bag of medical supplies thudding against her hip at every step. She glanced at Lee’s legwarmers. _Yup, he definitely put those weights back in_.

When they arrived, TenTen was standing uncomfortably between Sasuke and a group of Allied Forces shinobi who looked distinctly sour. “He’s under the Hokage’s protection,” she was shouting, “If you lay a hand on him, there’ll be—oh thank goodness you’re here, Sakura!” She moved away from Sasuke immediately.

“What’s going on?” Sakura demanded, looking straight at him. He had a black eye and blood was seeping out from under the bandages wrapped around his stump.

“Leave!” Lee yelled at the shinobi, “It’s not a show.” He grasped TenTen by the arm and they guided the grumbling bystanders away.

“Thank you, Lee,” Sakura called out. He could’ve left Sasuke to fend for himself, she wouldn’t even have blamed him if he had. But, time and time again, Lee had proven himself to be a better man than most. He turned slightly pink, nodding at her in acknowledgement.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” TenTen asked. _Of course_ , the words were on her lips but she forced herself not to say them: _he would never hurt me_. “Don’t worry,” she replied instead, managing a smile.

Wearing doubtful expressions, the two left. Sakura glanced around: there were footprints and skid marks in the dirt which indicated that some kind of skirmish had taken place, but she found it hard to believe any of those shinobi had managed to land a punch on the Uchiha heir.

Dammit, she’d have to take him back to her tent. She knelt by him, picking up his unresisting arm and placing it around her shoulders. _This position…how many times have we been in this position?_ She was getting real tired of it. “What happened?” she whispered angrily. She didn’t expect an answer and she didn’t get one. Sasuke turned his face away from her. “Yeah, I like it better when you don’t talk either,” she huffed.

She felt him sigh and pull away. “I can walk,” he insisted. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “The stiches opened,” he explained, “I needed bandages.” 

“Did you think you were going to find them by fighting those shinobi?” She couldn’t help herself.

Again, he was silent. The two elicited questioning and distrustful gazes as they made their way back to her humble abode. Her neighbours were mostly Konoha shinobi, so after a certain point, recognition replaced wariness and she got a couple tentative hellos. They went by the well she’d carefully excavated and surrounding it were most of the remaining Rookie Nine minus Naruto and Hinata, who gaped openly at her choice of companion. Now she understood why Tsunade had kept him away from this area.

“Oi, Sakura!” Ino waved at her. Sakura returned it half-heartedly. 

By the time they reached her tent, Sakura was fuming. She yanked aside the entrance before throwing the medical supplies bag onto the floor and rubbing her now sore hip.

She heard the rustle of the flap being opened yet again and whipped around. “What, people don't need permission to enter anymore, is that it?!” she yelled.

A frightened medic-nin clutching two ramen packets stood before her. Sasuke sat at her desk chair, observing the newcomer with vague curiosity.

“S-S-Sakura-san,” the man stuttered, “I sent you a letter. I wondered if you wanted to grab lunch?”

Sakura stared. How was this happening right now? She had never bothered to reply to that guy’s letter, not wanting to give him hope, but clearly that had been the wrong decision.

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” she forced herself to tack the apology on, “sorry.”

His eyes inevitably drifted to Sasuke. “You-you’re kidding,” he laughed incredulously.

“She said get out.” Sasuke didn’t mince words.

The man shot them both a dirty look and turned tail. Sakura held her head; she just wanted to go home and do her job in peace. She’d forgotten how much drama Sasuke could cause. _Are you kidding_ , Inner Sakura guffawed, _this boy caused nearly 5 years of drama across the ENTIRE WORLD_.

“Tsunade said I should come to you if I need anything,” his voice broke her reverie. _She said what now?_

She picked up a roll of bandages and some medical thread. His stiches would have to be redone and the wound redressed. “How did that happen?” she asked, ignoring him and gesturing to his bleeding arm.

His mouth twisted, “I fell.”

Sakura’s brows knit together. Did he think she was stupid? “You expect me to believe that?” She approached him, feeling quite righteous in her anger, and gripped his chin to get a closer look at his eye.

The skin around his Rinnegan resembled the colour of the eye. The permanent purple rings got eerier the longer she stared at them. He winced when she poked at his eye socket. She thought about leaving it as it was, maybe he’d learn something.

While she debated whether that was ethical or not, she slipped on a pair of gloves to unwrap the soiled bandages from around his arm. The wound was still extremely discoloured and the black thread stuck out even more on his pale skin. “Have you been experiencing any phantom pain?” she asked, touching the area gently.

His hand on her wrist caused her to jerk back. “I fell during training.” At her shocked expression, he removed it just as quickly. “It has affected my landing. But no, no phantom pain.”

Sakura leaned back on her haunches and considered him. The spool and needle in her lap were stabbing lightly into her stomach, but she barely noticed as she took in his words. His eyes were guarded but held no traces of deceit. “No more training,” she made out, throat closing up for some reason.

He sucked in a breath when she started carefully removing the stitches, but after that he didn’t even flinch. “How is the case-building going?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

He shot her a reprimanding look, and though she was more invested than she wanted to advertise, she pleaded, “At least ask Kakashi-sensei for advice. I’m sure he could help in some way.”

No response. Sighing, she patted his arm to indicate she was finished, then pulled a container of pills out of her thigh pouch. “Painkillers,” she tossed them to him. On instinct, she watched him lift what would’ve been his left arm, before changing his mind and catching them with his right. His frustration was palpable. “It’ll take a lot of time,” she said, “You’ll have to adjust aspects of your fighting style.”

Hand trembling, she slowly covered his where it was clenched on his thigh. “Ah,” he murmured, smiling weakly at her. Her heart clenched as she remembered this same expression on a much smaller boy.

He straightened up and she did too, a hair’s breadth away from each other. He was tall enough now that she could feel his breath on her hair. “You’re burnt.”

The edge of one of the acid burns was just visible beneath her rolled-up sleeves. “Before we found you, Obito and I visited an acid dimension,” she explained.

He raised his eyebrows. “You couldn’t heal it?”

She bristled at his instant assumption that her inability could be the only reason for the unhealed burn. “It’s not normal acid. We’d need to access the dimension again to manufacture an ointment.”

He nodded slowly, thinking. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “My body has sort of quarantined it.”

“I suppose it’s only important that it heal from the inside anyway,” he commented, waiting for her to confirm his assessment. 

“I suppose so.” Somehow, she knew they weren’t talking about her wound anymore. 


	3. Team 7

The days after Sasuke’s return had felt like a fever dream. Sakura was surprised to realize that she’d gotten used to not seeing the Uchiha crest in her periphery every time Team 7 gathered together. Even now, she blinked furiously to convince herself she wasn’t imagining it.

They sat on Ichiraku's worn barstools the night after Sasuke's trial. He would begin serving his sentence the next morning. For a last meal, Sakura supposed it could be worse. She crossed her legs and leaned on the counter, eager for their food to arrive so she'd have something to do other than sneaking glances at Sasuke's side profile while he chatted with Naruto. Of course, for Sasuke, chatting mainly consisted of silence and the occasional glare at the person speaking. 

She didn't know what Kakashi-sensei or Naruto were trying to pull by relegating her to the corner. With the wall to her left and Sasuke to her right, well, it was basically like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. When she'd arrived, uncharacteristically late due to a last minute outfit change, her mild annoyance at her seating situation was quickly overshadowed by something much worse: she could not stop shaking. As she'd lifted the thick sheet to enter the stand, Sasuke had turned, and when their eyes met, a horrible weak-kneed sensation followed by intense shivers had taken over her.

 _You are a medic-nin,_ she scolded herself furiously, _Apprentice of the Sannin, Tsunade Senju, defeator of Sasori the Puppet Master, wholesome member of Team 7, get a hold of yourself!_

With sheer willpower, she managed to nod a hello before sliding onto the only free stool. She could feel the three mens' confused gazes upon her. White-knuckled, she gripped the menu and scanned it without seeing anything before ordering the same thing she always did. 

"Sakura-chan," Naruto said tentatively, "Are you okay? You seem...tense."

"What's wrong?" Sasuke asked. She felt Naruto and Kakashi's even more perplexed stares on Sasuke now. His eyes trailed across her face, leaving a blaze of heat behind. 

"Nothing. I'm fine. Let's eat!" Sakura exclaimed a touch too enthusiastically. The group fell silent then, Naruto privately fuming at how long it was taking for the food to arrive, Kakashi sure that his most difficult disciple wasn't even aware of how greedily his eyes were taking in the pink-haired kunoichi. Behind his mask, his mouth curved up. 

A couple minutes later Naruto and Sasuke's heated argument over who had won the battle at the Valley of the End was interrupted by the steaming bowls placed in front of them. Sakura sighed with relief. As she ate, she found it easier to laugh and talk with the rest of her team. 

"Ne, Kakashi-sensei, are they really gonna keep his chakra sealed?" Naruto asked with a frown. It seemed undeniably cruel, but then, the punishment had to fit the crime. Talking the Council down from banishment to pardoning with a prison sentence had been mostly Naruto's doing, but the most shocking event at the trial was Sasuke's own demand that the Village investigate the genocide of the Uchiha and reform policies which had allowed it to occur in the first place. The years Sasuke was a rogue-nin, Sakura had obsessively researched the history of his clan and Konoha's not-so-subtle interferences in it. Slowly, her sadness at Sasuke's abandonment intertwined with the sick realization that he was the victim in this; the village was the perpetrator--against him, against his brother, and all the Uchiha before them.

"That hardly matters, Naruto," she said, "Compared to the other atrocities they've been complicit in, this is nothing." She pushed her bowl away; suddenly her ramen didn't taste good anymore.

Kakashi cocked an eyebrow. "Careful who you say that to." His tone was casual but Sakura knew his warning was real. Naruto looked appalled-- _I guess if I loved the Village that much, I'd react that way, too_ , Sakura reasoned.

"The real issue is whether they will even do anything about what Sasuke-kun said," she continued, pointedly ignoring his eyes. "Nothing like that should ever be allowed to happen again."

She heard the click of chopsticks as Sasuke placed his aside. "Sakura," he said, "Keep your nose away from where it doesn't belong." He gave her what she supposed he thought was a menacing look, but after all that she'd seen, and all the expressions she'd seen him wear, it didn't even make her blink.

"I'm only trying to help," she placated. "Besides, it's possible that I'm doing this for me and not for you, you know?"

At Sasuke's deadpan face, she grew angry. "I love this Village," she said, "so how could I not be horrified by what they've done and want to change that?"

Naruto's eyes flitted between his teammates worriedly, "Sakura-chan, Sasuke…" he began.

"Our roads don't intersect," Sasuke said with finality, making vague reference to what he'd told her when he left Konoha that fateful night. _We're each starting off on a new path...They're just different, is all._

Sakura stood up. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed both shopkeepers inch away behind the service curtain. "You say that, and yet here you are," she retorted. The black eyes she stared into would've seemed fathomless to most people, but this was not the first time Sasuke had pushed her away while saying something and meaning another. _Why can't you just...let me in?_

Their staredown lasted for all of ten seconds before Kakashi waved a hand between them. He wondered which was worse: Sasuke and Naruto's insatiable rivalry...or this. "C'mon," he chided, "There are two other people on this team."

Breathing in deeply, Sakura relaxed her furrowed brow. It wasn't like her to lose her temper, not at Sasuke, though she'd realized upon his return that there were a lot of things she wanted to pummel him for. 

The rest of dinner passed without incident, Sakura mostly engrossed in her own thoughts about what she could do to ensure the Village followed through on Sasuke’s request. _Maybe when Naruto is Hokage--wow I never thought I’d think that and mean it--but, no, his hands will inevitably get tied by politics…_

“--take it easy,” Kakashi was saying, “You know how to mind your own business.” He stood and clasped his former student’s arm. Sasuke nodded seriously. 

Sakura watched their exchange, troubled. It dawned on her that he would not be treated as a Konoha-nin, or even a citizen, for that matter. In prison he would be made less human somehow, just like how desertion had made him less of a shinobi.

Naruto thumped Sasuke on the back, "Take care of yourself in there. We'll do all we can from out here." He stepped back to join Kakashi and finally it was just Sakura and Sasuke left staring at each other. 

She saw no remorse in his features and she tried not to show any worry on her own. "I'm also responsible for what happened," she whispered so the other two wouldn't hear, "everyone was complicit, whether they knew it or not. So I have to do something."

His expression didn't change as he did the clasp on his cloak, but neither did his eyes leave hers. "Sakura," he spoke at last, "I don't see the world as you do. It does not just go from dark to light." She was reminded of when he chastised her for making fun of how Naruto was an orphan all those years ago, like her inability to see nuance was only feeding her arrogance.

"I know that," she said feebly. _I have family and friends, but if you leave, Sasuke...for me, it'll be the same as being all alone._

He walked past her, so close they brushed shoulders, and Sakura was alone watching his retreating figure, as always.

***

There is a dream--nay, a memory--which comes to him often these days. It rears its ugly head when Sakura visits him in prison. He knows it is her because she brings with her light that does not exist in this dark place. She is the only one who comes. Her hands glance over his body, as if assuring herself he's still there, as if she's the one blindfolded and not him, and she talks with him about nonsensical things. 

"Naruto began studying for his jonin exam," she chuckles, "I think he's more freaked out about this than he was about saving the world."

"Tsunade-sama is going to appoint Kakashi-sensei as the Sixth, I just know it." 

"The hospital repairs are well under way. I've been thinking of opening a Mental Health Clinic for children, somewhere they can recover from their trauma, you know? What do you think, Sasuke-kun?"

"Hn," he mumbles. He never says anything else, both unsure of the words and finding himself unworthy of formulating a response. Honestly, he's not even really listening most of the time. The cadence of her voice is enough to calm him, and here, with the two of them alone in a cell, he's not quite loathe to admit it. He breathes in the scent of her, like fresh spring, and remembers hazy days on a bridge, in the grass, the small thrills of pleasure at watching her rebuke Naruto time and time again. Her hand on his wrist, healing the bruises from his restraints, feels familiar. The strength of her fingers around his as he squeezed her hand, searching for a reprieve from the pain of Orochimaru's curse mark. He had thought her naive and stupidly idealistic. Weak. How wrong he was.

That night, his sleep is more fitful than usual. The phantoms of his dead clan are replaced with a familiar pain which drives him to his knees. His neck feels like it is on fire, and the searing sensation spreads. He cries out, reaching for something, anything. His fingers touch familiar skin, and then Sakura is gripping his hand, gentle and firm. He squeezes harder, in too much pain to care that he is probably hurting her, but she doesn’t resist. “Sasuke-kun!” she cries, and then his eyes roll back into his skull and he slumps sideways, nestled safely against her chest.

He watches himself awake to a heavy weight on his chest, at once lighter than his burdens and denser than his dreams of revenge. _Am I dead?_ he thinks, _No…Sakura…_

“Sakura…you’re heavy…”

His face is wet with her tears. It will not be the last time, but it is the first that he could remember someone crying for him after the massacre. Her eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, but somehow greener than ever. And Sasuke recalls now that the sight was seared into his memory as surely as if he’d copied it with his Sharingan.

***

"You just got in and you're already abusing your power? That's just like you Kakashi-sensei!" Naruto exclaimed, pointing a finger at the gray-haired shinobi.

Sakura thumped him on the head, something that was much harder to do now that he was taller than her. "Idiot! That's the Rokudaime to you! Oops, sorry, Sasuke-kun." He was using her arm for guidance as they walked towards the training grounds before she'd abandoned him midstep, and he was quite irritated that the others might have seen him stumble. 

"The seal may only be undone for training purposes." Even though he couldn't see Ibiki's face, his menacing tone was enough for Sasuke to imagine his expression. Sakura had thanked him graciously before gently placing an arm around Sasuke's waist to help him up. It was a testament to his muscle deterioration that he needed it. He'd been in prison for almost two months, and this was the first time he was being allowed outside his cell. Based on the guards' chatter, Sakura and Naruto had lobbied Konoha's High Council intensely for this opportunity. Frankly, he was surprised they acquiesced; that at least meant they didn't intend to keep him there indefinitely. 

One arm secure around Sakura's shoulders, he'd limped out into the street, where they met Naruto. 

"Oof, teme, you're not looking good," Naruto had announced immediately. 

"He's been in prison, Naruto, what did you expect?" Sakura shouted back. 

"Easy," Naruto was probably holding up his hands in innocence now, "I just meant he looks weak."

"We'll see about that," Sasuke finally spoke, the hint of a challenge in his voice. 

He felt Sakura sigh beside him. They were pressed so close he heard the slight rustle of fabric as her chest brushed his when she exhaled. He forced his mind back to the matter at hand. 

They'd met their sensei on the path towards the grounds, whereupon Naruto had immediately accused him of exploiting his position. After giving him a good smack, Sakura rushed back to Sasuke's side immediately. Wordlessly, they arranged themselves back into the, dare he say, _comfortable_ walking position and continued forward. 

"Another bell test?" Kakashi mused as they walked.

"No way!" Naruto said. He definitely had his fists balled up now. "Just me and teme, one-on-one!"

"No," Sakura interrupted, "I…I’ll go first.” Sasuke turned to her, surprised, forgetting for a second that she couldn’t see his eyes.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto sounded hesitant, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she snapped, untangling herself from Sasuke as if to prove her point. “Kakashi-sensei!” she called. Sasuke heard Kakashi’s footsteps approach and in the silence that followed, he knew he was weaving an intricate series of seals. Moments later, his blindfold fell away.

Bright sunlight assaulted his senses. Unused to the light, he squinted, barely making out the three forms in front of him. A hand guided him towards shade, and under the canopy of a tree, he finally opened his eyes fully.

Sakura peered up at him, concern etched in the downturned corners of her mouth, green eyes shining. Naruto grinned widely and Kakashi smiled beneath his mask.

“Let’s go,” Sasuke said, once his eyes had sufficiently adjusted. He locked gazes with his soon-to-be sparring partner. She turned away.

He trailed behind Sakura, letting her choose the terrain. He was curious to see if she had the finesse to match her physical strength. _A healer and a fighter,_ he smirked.

She halted at a patch of grass between training grounds, right next to the river. Her fists were clenched at her sides, shoulders shaking. Sasuke watched, doing nothing.

Abruptly, her posture relaxed. When she faced him, it was with a stance he vaguely remembered Rock Lee using when he’d challenged him before the Chunin Exams.

“Ready, Sasuke-kun?” Her voice was soft and mocking.

His eyes narrowed but he made no movements. She was staring at him with an expression he didn’t recognize. In his periphery, he noticed Kakashi and Naruto take seats on a nearby log.

Without warning, she charged. He waited until the last possible moment to avoid her punch. The wind from her strike was sharp and hot, her monstrous chakra increasing the air temperature slightly. Wisely, he activated his Sharingan, leaping back to put some distance between them.

“Yeah! Get him, Sakura-chan!” Naruto yelled.

Sasuke unsheathed his blade, projecting chidori down its length. He flash-stepped behind her and landed a kick to her lower back. She fell to her knees and he pressed the tip of his sword to her neck. On contact, she disappeared in a puff of smoke. _Clone_. He swiveled around to find the real one. She waved at him from atop the river.

In two swift motions, Sasuke dropped his sword and shed the black shirt he’d been reusing for two months now.

“Show off!” Naruto’s screech grated his ears. Kakashi’s light chuckles carried out onto the water.

As soon as he set foot on the clear surface, Sakura punched the river. Water exploded upwards and just as she’d intended, Sasuke lost his balance for a second. Initially, he’d thought the water favoured him—water could conduct electricity, after all—but now he was realizing that Sakura could just as easily make this a battle of chakra control, which, if fuzzy tree climbing memories served, he would surely lose. He flipped backwards and landed in a deep crouch, trying to keep his center of gravity low.

Sakura appraised him from her comfortable seat on the water. A breeze swept ripples across its surface. Sasuke heard thunder rumbling in the distance.

“Sasuke! Sakura!” came Kakashi’s voice, “Make it quick. No reason to fight in the rain.”

They met again in the middle of the river, a clash of fists. What she lacked in speed and stamina, she made up for in strength and control. She matched him strike for strike, and in the midst of intense taijutsu, Sasuke heard the first raindrops plop onto the water.

The only audible sounds from afar were grunts and growls as both shinobi evaded and struck in tandem. Suddenly, Sakura lurched to the left. Sasuke saw through the feint with his Sharingan, but then, with a splash, she slid below the surface of the water. He squinted at the waves, _Shit, she’s going to—_

A hand shot out and yanked his ankle. Instinctively, he resisted by increasing chakra flow to his legs. He realized the consequences a split second later when she unexpectedly let go and he joined her with a loud splash.

Back on land, Kakashi and Naruto stood up in shock. It was raining in earnest now, and Kakashi could see lightning flashing close by. He suspected Sakura wanted to prove something to the boy who had taken up so much of her time, but Kakashi had half a mind to call it off.

Naruto, for his part, was realizing something quite different. His teammates moved around each other in perfect sync, making their fight look more like an elaborate dance. Initially, his money had been on the teme, based on their battle at the Valley of the End (sorry Sakura-chan), but now he wasn’t so sure.

All shinobi could swim of course, but the river was quite deep at this point, and with the current getting stirred up by the storm, Sasuke had no intention of spending the remainder of their battle underwater. He blasted chidori from his body, watching as the electricity traveled the short distance between them, catching her just as she brought her hands together for a seal.

The moment her water-breathing jutsu broke, Sasuke was upon her, grabbing her by the throat and thrusting them both above the water. He stood on shaky legs, holding her limp body up in the air.

“Oi, teme! Stop!”

“Sasuke! That’s enough!”

Sakura squirmed against his hold as soon as she regained consciousness, gasping when he squeezed tighter. She grasped his arm around her neck and her terrified eyes met his. Then, like he had before, he trapped her in a genjutsu. She slumped against his arm.

Carefully, he hooked an arm underneath her legs, cradling her to his chest, and walked calmly back towards the shore. Rivulets of water streamed from his hair onto her face, and the sky blazed black and blue, all the colours of the world inverted for a fraction of a second. It reminded him of Tsukiyomi.

Sakura moaned and he shifted his eyes down. The palm of her hand struck his nose, and instinctively, he went to cup his hands to his face.

 _Pow!_ He was blasted clean across the water. He could already feel the bruise spreading across his cheek, and he cursed as blood dripped into his mouth. He landed hard on his side, skidding several meters before he managed to gain some traction with chakra. His Sharingan receded and he struggled against the wave of dizziness. Through blurry eyes, he saw her stalk forward, backlit by lightning, footsteps punctuated by crashes of thunder.

He was on his knees in the water and when she stopped before him, it was all he could do to turn his face up to her. For a moment, she blocked out the storm around them. He was frozen as she bent to stroke his face. She wiped away the bloody trails from his eyes, nose and mouth. Memories resurfaced, unbidden: a plate of apples, the sun glinting off a kunai, green eyes in tears, always in tears. 

Like a child, she pulled him closer with a finger on his chin. When they were all but nose to nose, she whispered, "A shinobi should know better than to use the same trick twice. I win, Sasuke-kun."

Silent and somewhat dumbfounded, he stared as she headed back to Kakashi and Naruto, and suddenly he felt that if he didn't keep up they would really leave him. That this time, they wouldn't come chasing after him. He struggled to his feet to follow, the swishing water making it all the more difficult.

"Sakura-chan, that was amazing! You should've seen his face when you woke up!"

Kakashi cut his eyes to the lone figure moving slowly back towards them. He had not expected the fight to end this way, and he was sure neither Sasuke nor Sakura had exhausted their reserves, so there must be another reason why it was cut short. The tenderness in their eyes had not escaped even Naruto, who had let out something like a strangled gasp at the sight of his teammates’ intense eye contact. For a moment, he thought they were kissing, they were so close, but then Sakura stood up and despite how far away they were, Naruto recognized the expression on Sasuke's face immediately; it was the same one he wore when he'd awoken to Sakura's arms around him after Itachi's Tsukiyomi torture: bewilderment and hopefulness. At the time, it had been quite painful to witness, but now Naruto found himself in awe of their obvious love for each other. An unconditional love which he secretly worried he would never obtain.


	4. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was an essay I read called Naruto: The Unresolved Revolution, available here: https://the-artifice.com/naruto-the-unresolved-revolution/. It’s timely and has stuck with me for years, and describes perfectly the issues within Konoha, which of course mirror those in the real world, and it is at this juncture where I believe Sasuke and Sakura’s relationship could realistically begin to blossom, but only if these issues were addressed. That’s what I will try to do in this story. 
> 
> Colonial possession is a good place to start when trying to understand Konoha’s actions towards the Uchiha, and state-sanctioned violence is a good place to start when trying to understand why Naruto’s Tailed Beast would come to be accepted but Sasuke’s Sharingan/Rinnegan would always be viewed with suspicion. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The timeline is a little unclear, but it seems like Sasuke’s redemption journey lasts roughly two years from the end of his imprisonment a couple months after the end of the Fourth Shinobi War, with him arriving back in Konoha at the end of Sakura Hiden and the two corresponding via letter/messenger hawk, at least a little, throughout. This story, then, takes place after The Last and before Sakura Hiden, based on this timeline: https://naruto.fandom.com/wiki/Naruto_Hiden. 
> 
> **Oyone and Hakui are both medic-nin (manga canon)

Sunlight streamed through the hospital windows. Sakura closed her eyes, giving herself permission to bask in it for a precious couple of minutes. Staff strolled in and out of the hallway she’d paused in, calling out hellos around the enormous piles of paper they carried. Occasionally, a gurney would rush by, followed by distraught loved ones, and preceded by nurses and doctors yelling out orders.

She had to cut her enjoyment short at the sound of her name. “Sakura-chan!” shouted a familiar voice.

She sighed and opened her eyes. “Naruto,” she greeted, “Hey.”

Now more than a foot taller than her, with his hair shorn short and the last of his majorly orange attire discarded just last week (at the suggestion of Hinata, no less), Naruto was mostly unrecognizable, save for the same exuberance that had always defined her friend.

He leaned his arm on the ledge beside her. “I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

Sakura looked up at him knowingly, “I’m good. Just like I was good yesterday. And the day before that. And the week before that. And the month before that.”

“C’mon,” he said, “You know that’s not what I mean.” The war had sobered them both quite a bit and while he was now her closest confidante and Sakura was satisfied with where they stood, she still preferred to keep matters of the heart, well, close to her heart. Despite her vocal declarations during their youth, she had always kept the strength, resilience and fervor of her feelings to herself.

Oh, she had tried. The intense therapy she’d received after the war had hammered into her the importance of living honestly every day, and she had healed significantly that way, but Sakura found that while she’d been able to change positively in other aspects of her life—ninjutsu, controlling her temper, sharing joy and pain with her friends, even reconciling with her Inner—in the romance department, she’d remained helplessly immobile.

But there was a very good reason for that. Recently, she’d come to understand that the question of whether she and Sasuke were meant to be was complicated by more than his reserved nature and her low self-esteem; it wasn’t that they had little in common or even that they’d spent the majority of their formative years apart. He had always been held at a distance, first by their peers throughout the Academy because of his extraordinary prowess and later by the Village for the danger that very power presented. That constant alienation made it difficult for a person to trust others and it also made it impossible to know them on their own terms.

She remembered the grace with which each of his kunai would hit their target during practice; the certainty that she was witnessing greatness, the desire to possess just a little bit of that same greatness. _He was fascinating to me because he existed outside the boundary of normal. And the Uchiha were fascinating to the Village for the same reason, so long as they followed their orders, of course._

The combination of threat and thrill she’d felt made her uncomfortable now. How could she love him in a village which sought to destroy him, but not her?

After Sasuke had turned down her offer to join him on his redemption journey, she’d struggled to find an outlet for her complex feelings. Of course, she was embarrassed at her hopefulness, but now there was a new dimension to her belief that she wasn’t good enough for him: if she really expected him to just waltz back into Konoha, the place where his clan was massacred and his brother turned into a political pawn, and make a life within walls which did not intend to change, then she really was beneath him. Suddenly, his declaration to become Hokage didn’t seem so ridiculous.

He wasn’t like Naruto; he couldn’t prove that he meant no harm, just his possession of the Sharingan and now Rinnegan meant his actions would be viewed with suspicion. After all, he could control their most powerful weapon. Sakura used to think that Konoha’s residents had come to see the error of their ways and that was why they’d accepted Naruto, but lately she wondered if it wasn’t because they knew Naruto would only ever dare to use his power in service to the Village. He’d probably never had a second thought about whether being a weapon for Konoha was good or bad.

The realities were heavy, and for a while, Sakura, not used to being unable to identify an adequate place to begin treating a malady, had become withdrawn. Misunderstanding that her sleepless nights had to do with heartbreak alone, three months after Sasuke left, her parents stopped by one morning for an “intervention,” as they’d called it.

Upon hesitant inquiry about the man in question, Sakura’s immediate reaction had been, in retrospect, a little defensive. It wasn’t their disapproval she’d feared so much as the breakdown she’d have if they insisted it was time to move on. It would have shone a painful light on the humiliation she’d felt for years and given a voice to her deepest fears. But instead, they’d managed to make her angry.

“He’s had a rough life. What happened with his clan...you don’t just walk away from that unchanged. Give him time,” Kizashi had told her.

Sakura gritted her teeth. _It wasn’t something that happened to them, it was something that was_ done _to them._ It took everything in her not to scream that the Village had walked away unchanged; what price had they ever had to pay?

Nodding in agreement, Mebuki had added gently, “There is nothing humiliating or pitiable about loving someone who must have some inkling of good in him if you’ve chosen to love him.” Smiling brightly even though her fists were clenched, she’d assured her parents their advice made her feel better.

She had considered going to Tsunade, but something stopped her. She’d tested the waters a little bit with Ino, but quickly found that her friend’s (justified) dislike of the man in question plus her passion for her own man left little room for constructive advice. Sakura didn’t blame her; Ino was living the romance Sakura’s younger self (and sometime heated imagination) longed for. As for Naruto, she knew he would never understand how her feelings for Sasuke and how the Village needed to change intertwined, and ever since her outburst at Ichiraku’s before Sasuke’s imprisonment, Kakashi had been watching her closely. _It’s not that I don’t trust them,_ she told herself, _it’s just that I don’t think they could understand._

Not wanting to delve too deep into what that could mean, she’d kept quiet and let Tsunade talk her out of her apparently visible disappointment. “You didn’t fight that war for him, Sakura,” the Sannin had reminded her, “You fought it for the people. Now continue to fight for them.”

So Sakura had fought: fought to open a Children’s Mental Health Center with Ino, fought to increase paid hospital internships, fought to fund joint research ventures with hospitals in the other Great Nations. Now, over two years later, work was under way for all three of her brainchilds, and her days consisted mostly of meetings and teaching. She’d had to beg Tsunade to scrub in on a case that had had all her seniors buzzing: a month ago, ANBU had brought in a shinobi with an eye growing on her arm. Normally, the case would have been handled by more junior staff, and much sooner, too, but the doujutsu was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Tsunade had consulted her books and Sakura had meticulously searched the village archives for any mention of a doujutsu other than the Sharingan, Byakugan and Rinnegan in Konoha’s history. Hinata had also informed her that it wasn’t at all like the Tenseigan she and Naruto had faced the past winter, either.

The harvest surgery was scheduled for this afternoon and Sakura looked forward to the many days of lab tests ahead of her. As a last resort, however, and wanting to get ahead of any potential disaster, Tsunade had instructed Sakura to take the eye to Orochimaru, who she was sure would know something about it. Sakura had respectfully requested Hinata be assigned to the mission as well, something _she_ was sure Naruto was less than thrilled about.

“I requested Hinata on that research mission to Orochimaru’s,” she said, watching his expression carefully, “I’m sure she already told you.”

Naruto nodded, seemingly unbothered that she’d changed the topic so quickly. A breeze ruffled his hair and he turned to gaze out the window. “She’s strong, and the Byakugan would be handy on a mission like this.”

 _That’s not the only reason._ Sakura laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe.”

“I’ve just made some progress with her dad. I don’t want this to set us back.

Hiasha Hyuga was a stern, traditional man who, Sakura knew, liked Naruto enough as a person (hard not to when he’d saved the world—and his daughter—multiple times), but wasn’t too keen on having him as a son-in-law. Earnest as ever, Naruto had buttered him up enough now that the two occasionally had dinner alone, without Hinata providing a buffer.

“I wonder if Sasuke’s parents were like this. Would explain why he always had a stick up his ass.”

She chuckled; it was so Naruto to completely gloss over the other traumatic things that had made their teammate an asshole. Then a thought occurred to her: “Naruto, did Sasuke-kun ever mention anything about an eye in his letters?”

He shook his head. “Not in any letters to me.”

Ah, so he didn’t know he was the only one receiving letters from Sasuke. And maybe Kakashi-sensei, but she hadn’t wanted to confirm that she was, indeed, the only one he wasn’t answering. In the beginning, they’d corresponded fairly frequently—mostly polite, inane stuff—but ever since that one letter...silence. It was her fault; she’d only held out hope because of the unexpected gentleness he’d portrayed when he was leaving, she reasoned with herself. Trying to keep the bitterness from her tone, she simply said, “Oh.”

Then one of her lab techs walked by and Sakura glanced at her watch. She had an exam to administer before the surgery, so she hastily bid Naruto goodbye with the promise that they’d get together for lunch soon, and hurried down the hall.

*******

Hinata squinted at the tiny writing on one of the many scrolls spread out in front of her. The chirping of the birds in the compound had woken the Hyuga heiress earlier than usual, and after laying out a hearty breakfast for Hanabi and her father, she’d gathered her study material and sprawled out in the veranda. Under the rising run, she surveyed each of the delicate parchments with her Byakugan, looking for anything that might’ve been invisible to anyone who didn’t have her prized clan doujutsu, or anything she might’ve missed in her initial inspection.

She had swelled with pride when she heard that Sakura had asked for her personally on this mission. They had grown quite close during Sasuke Uchiha’s imprisonment, and still met regularly. It would be her first mission outside the village since she was kidnapped by Toneri Ootsutsuki and, needless to say, she was excited. Her father’s disapproval and Naruto’s worry hadn’t gone unnoticed, but she was confident in her decision to go.

She rolled over onto her back, using the semitransparent scroll to block out the sunlight. If anyone walked in on her now, they probably wouldn’t recognize the kunoichi on the ground as the normally extremely poised and graceful Hinata Hyuga. Secretly, Hinata loved to let her hair down. She found it particularly easy to do so around encouraging people like Naruto. Having finally conquered her fainting spells, she could maintain a lively conversation with him and not be embarrassed by something she said or did. _Although_ , she giggled, _we haven’t been doing much talking lately…_

“Onēsan!” came Hanabi’s voice. “I’m going out to train! Let Otōsan know!” There was a dull thud which Hinata recognized as the compound gates falling shut. Hanabi was far more courageous and adventurous than herself, and Hinata was loathe to discourage that, so she didn’t mind taking the heat for her sister sometimes.

Focusing back on the writing in front of her, which was a detailed history of the Byakugan, Hinata noted the same paragraph that had caught her eye previously:

_The Byakugan was brought to Earth by the progenitor of chakra, Kaguya Ootsutsuki. Its origins amongst the Ootsutsuki, however, are unknown. It is speculated that Kaguya was born to a branch family and was exiled to guard the Divine Tree, by which we infer she was dispensible, meaning her Byakugan was neither the strongest nor the most revered._

She gulped despite herself. If Kaguya had been a nobody amongst the Ootsutsuki—and she could read minds—as her elders believed, what were _indispensable_ Ootsutsuki capable of? Ocular evolution was obviously within the realm of capability, as Toneri had proven, but Hinata reluctantly dismissed this because it had been a paradox evolution, as her father called it: the Tenseigan could only exist after the Ootsutsuki's descendants, the Hyuga, came into existence. But she doubted that her and Hanabi’s kidnapping was the first contact her clan had had with their cousins on the moon. _I have to speak to Toneri_ , she thought, _maybe Sakura and I can pay him a visit_.

She had also heard, of course, tales of Hyuga whose Byakugan were so strong they could supposedly see into the future, which was just a conglomeration of chakra after all, but usually these were told to keep naughty children in line. Toying with a strand of her long black hair, she recalled a conversation at one of the clan meetings she’d attended after the cursed seal practice had been abolished. “The Byakugan was the first—the original—doujutsu!” a distant cousin had yelled in opposition, “Rinnegan and Sharingan wielders have nothing to fear; there’s only one left in the entire world anyway! But we must protect our own…”

Hinata had tuned out after that, but she was intrigued by the idea of an original eye. That Kaguya had only obtained her Rinne Sharingan by consuming the chakra fruit and Hagoromo’s Byakugan had evolved into Sharingan after witnessing the death of his beloved were both incidents used as support for the argument of the purity of her kekkai genkai; it was the natural resting state, her elders argued, and it enabled its users to perform unmatched feats.

“Hinata, what’s all this?” She met her father’s glare, his shadow providing a cool respite from the sunlight.

She sat up. “Research for the mission, Otōsan.” She had informed him of the high-level details when she’d requested access to the clan archives.

He surveyed the papers scattered around her. “Did you find anything useful?” he asked.

“I think so,” Hinata replied, “Are there any more records related to Kaguya?”

A puzzled expression crossed his face, but she appreciated when he did not pry further. “Not here, no,” her father answered thoughtfully, “However, as you know, all the clans have their own version of events.”

Hinata knew just the clan to go to, then. She’d just have to break it to Sakura lightly.

*******

"Shut up!" Hanabi hissed at the boy lying beneath her, "We're not that far from the village!"

He frowned up at her. "C'mon, I'm the Sandaime’s grandson, that's got to count for something."

She shot him a withering look, "Naruto-nii-san saved the world and my dad's still giving him a hard time."

Konohamaru sighed. When Hanabi made up her mind, there was no point trying to reason with her. He rubbed a hand along his jaw, where he was sure a bruise was forming from one of her earlier attacks. They'd come quite a ways from Konoha to "train" as he'd put it, but Hanabi was convinced her father's Byakugan could see until Sunagakure. "You should at least tell your sister," he said.

Hanabi stood, pulling him up along with her. "I will. As soon as she gets back from this mission."

"Oh, yeah," Konohamaru placed his hands on her waist, "she's going to see the Snake Sannin, right?"

Hanabi looked shocked, "How do you know that?"

"Well, you know," he said, "They were all the Sandaime’s apprentices and Tsunade-baa-chan has a huge mouth, especially when she's complaining about the Rokudaime."

“Complaining? I thought she was going to leave,” Hanabi reached over and did the clasp he’d been struggling with on his shirt. “The Godaime, I mean.”

Konohamaru shrugged. Who was he to fathom the inner workings of that hag’s mind? She’d only told him about the visit to Orochimaru because he’d been chewing her ear off about interning under Sakura-san. He’d only been assigned to a mission under her command once, but the contrast of her meticulousness and easygoing attitude had left a deep impression on him. He had absolutely no skills in medical ninjutsu whatsoever, but if Naruto-nii-chan had managed, he could, too. Also, he might have a slight crush on her, but that detail was unimportant. “She’d still the figurehead of the hospital, so she has a lot of sway. But mostly Shizune-san handles stuff.”

“Hmm.” She eyed him with a combination of disgust and affection unique only to her. “Don’t you dare mention this to Naruto-nii-san,” she threatened, indicating the space between the two, “or I’ll kill you.”

He nodded vigorously. He didn’t need to be told twice. Hanabi liked Naruto, that much was clear, but as she often told him, “I only like men as far as I can throw them.” And as far as he could tell, her distrust wasn’t rooted in hatreds past like the generation before them.

“How’s clan training?” he asked instead, steering the conversation towards a safer topic.

Hanabi beamed and animatedly described lessons on clan politics which were way over his head and probably need-to-know, but he acknowledged her excitement with well-timed exclamations and actual questions. If you’d told him a year ago that secret trysts with Hanabi Hyuga were in his future, he would’ve peed himself laughing at the impossibility. Though he’d seen her regularly at formal events his grandfather had organized for the clan elites, their paths never crossed, given that he spent most of those trying to pants the Sandaime under the table while Hanabi ate her food without speaking.

He and Hanabi were in the same year at the Konoha Academy, but he, like most children, had given her a wide berth due to her unsettling eyes and formidable lineage. She had none of her sister’s softness or pliability and was quite prone to losing her temper, though she always caught herself after her initial outburst, thereby conveniently preventing a scolding from their senseis. She excelled at ninjutsu and taijutsu, as most Hyuga did, and yet she spent more time at the training grounds than any other chunin he knew. It was actually where they’d first met.

“Are you listening?” she frowned.

“Mmm? Yeah, tell me more about the, er, veranda renovations.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Let’s head back, I still have to actually train.”

Their route back took the form of a refreshing sprint through the trees, which started out sparse and slowly thickened as they entered the heart of the forest, within which Konoha lay. Hanabi led, as always, long black hair whipping behind her. None of her steps were wasted, while Konohamaru’s were best described as brash. The air had lost some of its morning crispness and he breathed it in deeply.

Lately, she’d been even more involved in training; this was the first time he’d seen her in almost a fortnight. The anniversary of Neji’s death was fast approaching and he’d heard from Udon who had of course heard from Moegi that Hanabi had nearly perfected the Rotating Palm, the technique her cousin had been known for despite it not being one taught to branch family members. He couldn’t imagine the symbolism her success carried. She hadn’t mentioned anything though and he wasn’t sure how to ask her about it.

The second daughter, thrust into the burdens of the first; sometimes Konohamaru felt she carried the same weight Neji had. She insisted she was more than willing, even looking forward to, carrying it, but he couldn’t help but want to exchange words with Hinata-san and Hiashi-sama. He hadn’t shared his thoughts with Hanabi, who would disapprove of his intrusion in her familial affairs, or Naruto, for whom the conversation might be uncomfortable.

“Hurry up!” the kunoichi in front of him called. The gates of Konoha had come into view and now he hurried to catch up so they could enter their village together.

*******

“Hey, Konohamaru, do you think Hanabi hates me?” The hero of the Fourth Shinobi War sat across from him at his tiny kitchen table. Despite the gifts bestowed upon him after the war and moon rescue mission, which included but were not limited to: ninja tools, endless articles of clothing adorned with the Uzumaki clan symbol, a house and exactly four offers of marriage, the blond shinobi had refused them all. _Well,_ the chunin snickered, glancing at the sword mounted on the wall above the table, _except for that._

When asked why he’d nailed it there, Naruto had stood up straight and cited the prevalent need for a weapon during times when a person was most vulnerable, such as when eating a meal. Everyone in the entire world knew a katana was Sasuke Uchiha’s weapon, and Naruto’s desire to keep it definitely said something, but Konohamaru refrained from mentioning this to the next candidate for Hokage. Rumour had it he’d already been chastised for his décor choices by Sakura.

He tore his gaze from it with some effort. “What makes you think that?” he questioned.

Naruto’s blue eyes were a mix of concern and frustration. “She’s just,” he drummed his fingers on the table, searching for the right words, “really hard to figure out. I asked her to lunch a couple times, but she refused every time, dattebayo!”

Konohamaru wracked his brain for any time Naruto had come up in his conversations with Hanabi. Usually it was he who dedicated a couple minutes during their rendezvous to glorifying his mentor. “I…don’t think she hates you,” he said slowly. Then he remembered that Naruto didn’t know he was seeing her, so he added, “Why would you ask me anyway? It’s not like I know her that well.”

Naruto gave him a quizzical look, “Aren’t you training with her? That’s what Hinata told me.”

What? Hanabi hadn’t told him she’d told Hinata that. “Oh, that. Right, yeah.” Konohamaru studiously slurped the cheap ramen he’d been lured here with.

“Well? What should I do, then?”

“Uh...ask Hinata to ask her? I don’t know. Why does it matter whether she likes you or not?”

“Look, I know you’ve never had a girlfriend,” Naruto patted Konohamaru’s hand sympathetically, “So maybe you don’t know how it works, but generally you wanna get in the family’s good books.”

Konohamaru shook him off, “Enough. I saw you on a date with Hiashi Hyuga last week. Doesn’t get better than that, I don’t think.”

Naruto groaned, “You can’t imagine how hard it was to get the man to agree.”

 _Trust me, I can._ Flicking an errant noodle off of his scarf, Konohamaru got up to toss their empty cups. “I bet he was overjoyed to hear about Hinata-san’s mission, then.”

“About as overjoyed as I was, trust me.”

“You don’t want her to go?” Konohamaru was surprised. He knew Naruto had been protective ever since the Toneri Ootsutsuki mess, but Hinata was skilled. He watched his face closely, but couldn’t decipher his expression. “What, you don’t think she can handle it?”

The jonin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I know she can handle it. Sakura-chan’s there too. But Orochimaru...to say that guy’s a snake would be an understatement.”

“No kidding. But then, isn’t having Sakura-san there, like, the best insurance?”

“What do you mean?” Naruto tipped back, the front legs of his chair leaving the ground.

Konohamaru fidgeted. “I mean, like, don’t they have an understanding?” When the confusion remained on Naruto’s face, he prompted, “Because of Sasuke-san?”

Naruto walked over to the fridge and began rummaging inside. Probably looking for expired milk. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Wait, so they’re not together?”

The blond shinobi glanced over his shoulder at his protege and let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, boy, you don’t stand a chance.” He tossed him a milk carton.

“Like you ever did,” Konohamaru grumbled. He sniffed the milk; at least it didn’t smell like it had gone bad.

Naruto finished his in three large gulps, then burped noisily. “Listen, for real, though, I need you to put in a good word for me with Hanabi.”

Konohamaru squinted at him. “Why?”

His mentor cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Because I want to marry her sister.”

Konohamaru choked.

*******

The eyeball, floating in a jar of preservatives, sat on a trolley surrounded by dozens of medic-nin.

“Nothing on the era of peace and all,” someone said, “but this is the coolest thing I’ve seen in a while.”

Sakura had to agree. Most of the medics in the room were people she had never met before, though she did recall some of their applications passing by her desk as part of the internship recruitment program she’d spearheaded. The exam she’d invigilated had started a little late, and so she’d graciously chosen to simply observe the harvest surgery from the gallery instead of intervene and lord her seniority over the juniors. She’d have her fill of the eye later, anyway.

The patient had been sent back down to the main floor for post-op and now the onlookers exited to allow the custodians to scrub down the operating room for the next procedure. Sakura followed closely behind the surgical technician wheeling the jar out. She gripped the classified report submitted by Oyone in one hand. The patient, Nezuko, was a middle-aged jonin woman recently scouted for ANBU and otherwise completely ordinary in terms of genetic makeup and cell biology except for the fact that she had an eye growing on her arm. It caused her no pain or discomfort, but was certainly eerie to behold. They’d kept her in observation for a whole month with no incident.

Meanwhile, Tsunade, Shizune and Sakura had consulted with Kabuto, given his unfortunately extensive personal experience with eye transplants into limbs, and the transcript from the call was attached to the report.

“ _This is no anomaly. Either it was transplanted into her arm and she was made to forget, or it was able to grow unbelievably fast, within less than five hours if the jonin sleep schedule is the same as when I was one,” Kabuto had chuckled. “Obviously, given its appearance, I’m inclined to say it is related to the Byakugan, but, as you say, no extraordinary abilities have been observed in the patient or the eye itself.”_

“ _What would you recommend, then?” her Shishou had asked._

“ _My professional recommendation would of course be to pay a visit to my former master.”_

 _No residual chakra signature,_ Oyone had written, _the eye cells are an absurd mixture of the patient’s own, the SDM49X cell line developed in Konohagakure’s labs, and some, near the pupil, who share similarities with the HGAB2q bloodline. The vessel pattern follows that of a well-adjusted two tomoe Sharingan_ _, as seen in virtually all other doujutsu_ _; see Appendix C for the reconstruction of..._

“Sakura-san?” Sakura blinked. They stood at the elevators and the surgical tech was holding out the jar. “Hakui-san will be handling the lab tests with you.”

She dismissed the man with a thank you and gripped the jar with both hands. It was slippery and heftier than it appeared. She angled it so the last rays of the sun passed through it; the sclera was a pale blue ringed with black, while the pupil was a darker blue. Her instinct also told her it was related to the Byakugan somehow. _Maybe Nezuko is a distant relative._ It was more likely since the pupil cells were related to the Hyuga branch family, but she dismissed the thought; based on what she’d learned from Hinata, those who married outside of the clan were either banished or disappeared. Still, it wasn’t impossible to obtain that DNA if someone were very motivated. As for the vessel pattern, the Sharingan database was too scarce to say anything with confidence. Oyone certainly knew that, so she made a mental note to drop by Analysis Team HQ to ask why she’d mentioned it.

 _This level of biological experimentation demands a sophisticated lab, at least on par with what we have here in_ _the Village_ _._ Absorbed in theorizing, she walked slowly to her favourite lab in the South Wing, returning her coworkers’ farewells for the night with distracted waves. She fed a stream of her chakra into the lock on the door and it swung open. Leaving the light off, she carefully placed the jar on an empty bench. The blue eye watched her as she moved around the room, gathering a tray, instruments, various beakers and a microscope. Finally, she donned disposable gloves and stopped in front of it.

Its colour was nowhere near as vibrant as Naruto’s, but it was arresting nonetheless. Otherworldly. A shiver raced down her spine. The promise of discovery was the only time Sakura felt her mind wholly consumed. Gone were her worries for the future, thoughts of Sasuke and Naruto or whether she would amount to anything. Her anxiety over stagnancy, which was at least partly the reason she worked such unhealthy hours, disappeared when it was time to wrap her head around a problem. Pulling out a stool, she prepared to settle in for the night.


End file.
